Some people's crimes were beyond forgiveness; some people's mistakes still left room for redemption.
Atonement
Fulgrim returned in silence to his Scions' encampment. The sixty-three remaining Emperor's Children immediately stopped what they were doing and came to welcome their Primarch.
"You seem to be in a poor mood," Saul Tarvitz said.
"Is it that obvious?" Fulgrim gave a bitter smile. "You saw through me at a glance."
"Not really, Primarch." Saul Tarvitz lowered his head. "I simply know you very well."
Fulgrim sighed. If he said Erebus's words had not affected him at all, that would be a lie. He was already too contemptuous to lie to himself anymore.
So he admitted that those words truly could hurt him.
"I am indeed in somewhat poor spirits."
One of the Emperor's Children immediately pressed his hand to the sword at his waist in anger. He did not know the cause, nor did he know the details; he had simply acted on some instinct. And there were far more than just a few like him.
Fulgrim smiled, and his mood shifted a little. Being supported unconditionally was always a good thing. But after that smile, melancholy returned to him.
At last, he voiced his doubts.
"There are too few of us, Emperor's Children. Though we may still use this name, and are still permitted to use it, the disgrace and Dark Cloud I once brought still circle above our heads. Only the deaths and blood of our enemies can wash them away—but how am I to say it?"
The Phoenix of Chemos was filled with bitterness. "How am I to tell the Captain that I wish to take you onto the battlefield again?"
"We do not fear sacrifice, Primarch," one Emperor's Child said in a low voice. "We have already sacrificed ourselves